Freeze Frame, Pause, Rewind, Stop
by bri617
Summary: AU. When Oliver's grandma loses a round of poker, she forces him to go on a blind date with her friend's granddaughter to pay off her debt. As (bad) luck would have it, that granddaughter turns out to be Felicity Smoak aka the bane of his existence at work. One year later, an unlikely friendship has united the two former foes, with more than one of them developing stronger feelings


**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!**

 **Finally found some time to cross post this. Ali, hope you still enjoy this ;-)**

 **Happy reading and a wonderful beginning to 2018, y'all!**

 **P.S.: Title inspired by P!nk's song For Now**

* * *

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

Felicity brushed a few errand snowflakes off her coat when she stepped into Table Salt. The upscale restaurant was bustling with positive energy and laughter-filled chatter. She hadn't been here very often, due to the fact that it was quite expensive, but the few business dinners she's had here were making her lick her lips in anticipation of the delicious food and wine, despite the big question mark that was her date for the night.

Gosh, there were so many things she'd rather be doing on the second night of Hanukkah.

A few years ago, she'd sworn to her best friend she'd never go on another blind date in her life, but when her grandma had sprung this thing on her earlier in the day, she'd found herself unable to say no.

"Good evening, Miss. Welcome to Table Salt," the maître d' greeted her with a kind smile, motioning for an attending to take her coat. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Hi, thank you. I have a reservation. Smoak, table for two?" she replied, hoping her grandma's instructions were correct. How in the world she got a last minute reservation here was beyond her.

His eyes lit up in recognition and he nodded eagerly. "Ah, yes, of course, Ms. Smoak. Your dinner companion arrived a few minutes ago. If you follow me, I'll be happy to show you to your table. Right this way."

Quickly falling in stride with the older man, she swallowed down the new wave of nervousness that threatened to pull her under. Her date was already here. So much for her plan to take a few minutes to settle in, maybe enjoy a glass of wine to calm her nerves.

Weaving through the already occupied tables, she was too absorbed with not tripping and making sure her dress wasn't riding up, otherwise she might've seen the train wreck coming. But by the time she arrived at her table and her eyes fell on her supposed dinner companion, it was already too late.

No fucking way.

This must be a mistake.

She will **_kill_** her grandma.

"Mr. Queen, your dinner companion has arrived," the maître d' alerted the man sitting at her table, who was focused on his phone. Of course, he was. Ignorant asshole.

Seemingly on autopilot, he got up from his chair, still typing away on his device before finally looking up when the maître d' turned back to her, pulling out her chair. "Please have a seat, Ms. Smoak. Your grandmother already arranged for you to be served our classic three-course house special, but I'll send a waiter your way to take your drink orders. Have a pleasant evening."

She didn't even have time to protest or bring up her hope that this was a misunderstanding before the older man vanished, probably sensing the immense displeasure radiating from both of them.

From across the table, slunk down in his chair again, Oliver stared at her in shock. "Felicity?"

"The one and only."

Ugh, what a stupid thing to say. But before she could go on an epic ramble to correct her lame statement, the jerkwad opposite her cut in.

"Are you sure you're at the right table? I'm supposed to meet someone."

"Am I sure that my grandmother somehow managed to guilt-trip me into a blind date with the one guy I'd never voluntarily go on a date with?" she asked exasperatedly, silently cursing her conniving grandma. "Unfortunately, the answer to that is yes."

"Wait. Your grandma… and my grandma… set us up?" he probed, eyebrows drawn together as he put two and two together.

"Seems like it," she agreed, the beginnings of a headache settling in the back of her skull. "What did your grandma tell you?"

"That she wagered a date with me in a round of poker with her friends and she lost, so I had to come here to meet the granddaughter of one of her friends."

"Yup. That sounds familiar."

Damnit, grandma.

 **⁂**  
 **⁂** **⁂**  
 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂  
** **5 hours earlier**

 _"You did_ **what** _?"_

 _"I won you a date with a very nice young man," her grandma told her again with a calm voice, like this was something that happened every day._

 _"That's_ **not** _a thing, bubbe. You don't just win dates for your granddaughter, or anyone else for that matter. People meet and decide to go on dates, not have it decided for them like they're just two pawns in a game of chess."_

 _"What was I supposed to do? It was Gloria's idea. She ran out of money during our poker night and asked if it was okay to wager a date with her grandson. Everybody agreed that it was fine, because, of course, we've all seen pictures of him and I knew he was just the right guy for you. It took some serious bluffing to get everybody else to fold, but you don't mess with a Vegas girl."_

 _"And now, I have to go on a date with some guy I've never met before?"_

 _"How's that different from all those dating snaps you young people have?"_

 _"Dating apps," Felicity sighed. "And I wouldn't know, because I don't use them."_

 _"Which is why you haven't got laid in way too long," her grandma mumbled nonchalantly._

 _"Bubbe!" She turned to the older woman with wide eyes._

 _"Oh, come on, honey, it's not a secret that you haven't had sex since you broke up with that Willy guy almost a year ago, is it?"_

 _How did she even know that?_

 _"His name was Billy, and who says I haven't had sex since him? And oh my god, why am I actually talking about this with you?"_

 _"It's healthy to talk about sex, sweetheart. I have no idea where you got your prudishness from."_

Not from your part of the family, that much is clear.

 _"Can we stop talking about my sex life and get back to the problem at hand? I don't wanna go on a date with this mystery grandson of your friend. How do you know he's a nice guy? Every grandmother loves their grandchildren and boasts about them. So, what if this guy is actually the biggest creep? What if he's a criminal? At least give me his name, so I can run a quick background check on him."_

 _"I promise you that he's a good guy, Felicity. I wouldn't ask you to go on this date with him otherwise."_

 _"But why should I go in the first place? I'm sure this guy is just as unhappy to be a pawn in his grandmother's game as I am. Can't we just skip the inevitable awkwardness and get to the never seeing each other part already?"_

 _"Because you never go out anymore. You just work, work, and work even more. And I'm worried you'll look back in a few years and regret not having been more spontaneous and only concentrating on your work and being unhappy," her grandma insisted, patting her cheek gently._

 _That gave her some pause. Yes, she was definitely working a lot at the moment, being no stranger to clocking 14 and 15 hours every day, even throwing in a few Saturdays every month. But that didn't automatically equal being unhappy._

 _"I love you, bubbe, I really do. And I love that you worry about me, but you really don't have to," she replied calmly, hoping her grandmother could tell she was being absolutely serious. "I love my job. I love most of my colleagues. I get to make a difference in the world and that makes me happy."_

 _"But wouldn't it be nice to have someone to share that happiness with? Someone to come home to? Someone to share your success with?"_

 _"Nice? Sure. But not necessary. I'm happy being single right now." Before her grandma could object, she quickly added, "That's not to say I wanna stay single forever, but, at the moment, I don't have the time to be in a relationship."_

 _For a second, it looked like she'd actually managed to convince Freida Smoak. Just for a second. "Fine, no relationship then. But what about casual sex? Surely, you can make some time for that…"_

 _"Oh my god," Felicity exclaimed, more exasperated than ever, turning to the third Smoak woman in the room who'd remained suspiciously silent throughout this extremely uncomfortable conversation. "Some help, mom?"_

 _"Sure, honey," Donna said with a serene smile. "Should I put two or three condoms in your purse?"_

 _"You're both unbelievable," Felicity groaned, finally resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't win an argument against the two of them when they ganged up on her like this. "When and where am I meeting this guy?"_

 _It was just one date. What could possibly go wrong?_

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**  
 **⁂** **⁂  
⁂**

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂ ARROW ⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

"I think I'll just leave," Felicity contemplated out loud, gaining his attention. "We can just lie to them and say we had a decent time, but nothing more would come of this. Right? Then we don't have to sit here and pretend not to have a miserable time with each other."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her and let his eyes glide past her, hastily pasting on a fake smile that he hoped looked like he was having a good time. "Too late, because my grandma and mother just walked in and they definitely saw us," he pressed out between gritted teeth.

"Why would your grandma and mother be here?" she hissed, her head whipping around to spot the woman in question.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly even more uncomfortable than before. "Well, I wasn't exactly too enthusiastic when she told me about this date earlier and I think they just wanted to check that I actually showed up."

Felicity snapped her mouth shut, cocking her head curiously. "Well, we could still leave and say we skipped dinner in favor of dessert," she suggested with a shrug, before adding quietly, "That was my grandma's plan all along anyway."

Wait, what?

"You need your grandma's meddling to get laid?"

"No," she said, maybe a hair too quickly and defensively. There was definitely more to that than she was willing to share. "And who are you to judge, Mr. My-grandma-got-me-a-date-and-is-now-following-me-to-make-sure-I-have-a-good-time?" she added, more confidently this time.

Point taken.

He pressed his lips together. If there was one thing concerning Felicity Smoak he had major problems with was his love/hate relationship with whenever she called him on his shit. If mostly for the fact that he wasn't used to that sort of behavior from non-family members. At work, most people were so intimidated by his last name that barely anyone ever dared to contradict him, even when he was actually saying something wrong.

But, alas, Felicity Smoak wasn't most people. He had to learn that the hard way very early on.

From day one, working in accounting had been a depressing, soul sucking exercise of patience and perseverance. He didn't want to be there and the department head didn't want him to be there either, but it had been his father's brilliant idea to let him rotate through all essential departments of the company before establishing him in an executive position. Supposedly, that would give him the necessary holistic know-how to one day take over as CEO.

Five years ago, Oliver had relented when faced with the very real threat of being cut off financially from his parents unless he got his act together. Since then, he'd worked in a handful of different departments and even in overseas offices. Much to his surprise, he'd actually enjoyed the work. That was until he got transferred to accounting.

He'd been miserable at first, but then his boss had put him in charge of managing the IT department's budget. And that's where he'd crossed paths with Felicity Smoak, chief technological officer.

The only way he could describe her was as a spit fire.

She was the youngest CTO in the history of the company thanks to her double master's degree from MIT at the tender age of 19 and her rapid, subsequent rise through the ranks at QC. Everybody he talked to about her could barely stop singing her praises because, apparently, she was perfect.

Admittedly, he himself had to work hard not to be drawn in by her natural charm at first, but that had quickly turned into complete disdain whenever he met her. Thanks, mom and dad, for the inferiority complex at work.

He hated her perfectly designed PowerPoint presentations, her insane confidence when speaking in front of executives, her stupidly brilliant ideas that would shape the future of the company, and her ray-of-sunshine positivity that lit up every room she entered. He fucking hated it all.

But what he hated most was that he was attracted to her. She was so goddamn smart and beautiful –good god, her legs were a work of art, and her ass should have its own religion and be worshipped everyday— and refreshingly honest that it almost overshadowed his immense dislike of everything else.

Almost.

But it wasn't quite enough to keep his petulant, childish side from pointing out every little flaw he could find and make her life harder. Which, in turn, had turned into her making his life harder.

He was pretty sure that if they didn't have all this shit between them, they could actually be friends… or more. Maybe this was fate giving him a second chance.

"No wonder you need your grandma's help to score a date if this is how you treat women," her voice ripped him out of his musings, reminding him that he totally ignored her for the past few minutes. "You know what, I think I'll just go. I'll make up an excuse about having a migraine or something."

"No, wait," he hurried to say, making a potentially life changing decision when he saw her moving from her seat. "Stay." He covered her hand with his larger one on the table between them, pleasantly surprised when she stopped her retreat.

Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to finally make a change, put all of their grievances with each other behind them and turn their relationship around. Even if nothing more would come of it, it would certainly help to have a little less hostile work environment. Worst case scenario: everything stayed the same. Surely, this was worth a shot.

Her confused eyes moved slowly from their connected hands to his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Right, sorry." He removed his hand, holding it up in defense. "Why don't you stay? It's just one dinner. We've done dinner before, right?"

"Yes, _business_ dinners with plenty of other people who kept us from biting each other's heads off," she reminded him.

"Okay, fine, but still… we're adults. We can mange to sit through a dinner together, right? Then neither of us has to lie to our grandmas and we can move on with our lives. I promise to be a better dinner companion than the past ten minutes."

He was surprised to realize how much he actually wanted her to stay. Maybe his patent-pending Billion Dollar Oliver Queen Smile would help sway her.

Nope. The suspicious frown on her face told him otherwise.

"You're paying, right?" she finally said, leaning back in her seat. "Because I'm gonna need a lot of really good wine to get through this night."

"You can have all the wine," he promised just as their waiter came around with a bottle of red and two salads.

"So, you're just stingy about giving me money when we're at work?"

And here we go, he thought.

"You really wanna talk about work?"

"Well, yeah. Why not? It's not like this is a real date, so we might as well talk about you being a jerk to me all the time at work."

"I'm not a jerk. I'm being a responsible accountant," he shot back semi-truthfully. He knew he purposely was a jerk to her, but also to everybody else who didn't do their work right.

"You've blocked literally every single budget proposal I've submitted since you started working in accounting," she said, her voice accusatory.

He had already decided to try and mend fences, so he should probably tell her the truth instead of antagonize her like he usually did, right?

"Because you cut corners and submit incomplete paperwork. And you always use way too bloated calculations to justify the insane amounts you ask for," he reasoned, pointing his fork at her before digging into his salad.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do."

"So, why did your predecessor have no problem greenlighting my budgets?" she challenged, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I'm going out on a limb here, but I'd guess that he probably wanted to get in your pants."

"No, he didn't," she denied vehemently.

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up. "He never asked you out? He never used the excuse of getting dinner or drinks to discuss your proposals? Never found a way to get you alone for a few minutes when you were out with work friends?"

"I…" She considered his words, cocking her head. "That was only…" She trailed off with a frown.

He knew he got her. "I went back and checked every proposal you filed before I got there. None of them were complete and none of them should've been granted."

"And instead of just telling me this ten months ago, you thought it would be fun to make my life hell?" she questioned angrily. "Do you know how much shit I could've gotten done for the company this year, how much money I could've made if you hadn't blocked my funding?"

"Your overblown funding, you mean," he corrected her quickly. "I actually went ahead and ran your projects through the cost analyses that you were supposed to do, but didn't do. With your projected costs, none of them would've broken even in the first _fifteen_ years. They were good ideas, but that's shitty business, which is why I felt quite justified in rejecting your proposals."

"Again, why didn't you just tell me?" she asked with an annoyed sigh, which he counted as silent acknowledgement of him being right. It was all about the small victories.

"I did. In the beginning, at least."

Her eyebrows drew together as she contemplated his answer. "You rubbed it in my face that I didn't get the money I asked for."

"I'll admit to getting some satisfaction out of the QC wonder child being bad at one thing, but I did offer to explain the correct process to you and you shut me down. Repeatedly."

"Because you were being sleazy about it and making it very obviously sound like that was just an excuse to get me into your bed."

He considered her answer, thinking back to the time her offered his help. "Fine," he conceded, "my offer might've not been entirely without ulterior motives… but it wasn't for the reason you think."

"Then why?" She sounded genuinely curious, most of her anger having vanished.

"It was more a ploy to show that the wonder child wasn't perfect. Show that you had flaws that couldn't simply be overlooked," he admitted.

"You keep calling me wonder child. What's up with that?"

"Yeah, sorry," he grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. Old habits die hard. "That's the nickname Thea and I gave you."

"Explain?" She was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, seeming open and interested in his response.

"I think it's no secret that my parents like you. They like how smart you are, how mature and ambitious. They think you're perfect. And they never fail to rub your achievements in our faces. At virtually every dinner it's, 'did you hear Felicity did this?', and, 'oh Felicity did that.' They kinda established you as the golden standard of what success should look like, reminding both Thea and me that we're far from that. And as petty and childish as it sounds and **_is_** , it felt good to see you fail at something that for once I was better at."

Huh, no wonder she called him a jerk. He really was one.

"Wow… of all the reasons I suspected why you disliked me, this one never came to mind."

They continued their dinner mostly in silence, sipping leisurely on their wines, doing some casual small talk here and there. Only when their waiter cleared the table, taking their orders for dessert, did Felicity break the increasingly prolonged and suffocating silence.

"Why did you tell me now?"

That was a good question. Why did he tell her?

"I don't know. Because you asked?"

"I never asked before?"

"Not that I could recall, but then, usually, when we talk, things spin out of control pretty quickly."

"Huh…"

He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for being an ass."

Her eyes widened in surprise, clearly not having expected an apology. But that was what she deserved and what he definitely owed her.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he continued, "I never truly realized how incredibly stupid my reasons were until I verbalized them just now. It seemed to make sense to me in the beginning, but I now realize just how unnecessarily mean and asinine I've treated you just because I have validation issues with my parents. You shouldn't have been dragged into that mess and your work definitely shouldn't have suffered because I felt inadequate in their eyes."

"That… I…" She blinked a few times, grasping for words. "I really don't know what to say."

"Well, luckily our desserts are coming, so you don't have to say anything," he chuckled, feeling lighter than before, like this apology was something that had just been weighing on his chest, waiting to get lifted off.

And even beyond that it felt weirdly liberating to have everything out in the open. He was honest when he said he'd never realized how bad his behavior had gotten until he replayed everything in his head and said the explanation out loud. It was stupid and really childish, and he really couldn't blame her if she didn't accept his apology.

"I'm sorry, too," she finally blurted out.

"I really don't see what you could apologize for," he pointed out, confused. "You're kinda the victim in all this. I mean, you were always confronting me at work and pushing my buttons and swamping me with useless budget proposals, but other than that you're the innocent party here."

"Not entirely. I…"– she hesitated –"… retaliated."

"You… what?"

"I might've been responsible for your computer troubles, and your phone crashing all the time, and I kinda hacked your car's onboard computer to only play holiday music during the summer."

"That was you?"

"Mhhmmm…" she hummed, pursing her lips in semi-guilt and semi-mirth, before squeezing his hand. "I _am_ sorry, though," she quickly assured him. "Admittedly, only _after_ hearing your reasons for being a dick— before that I felt quite justified. But I **_get_** disappointed parents who hold you to an unattainable standard and expect things from you. So, while I don't approve of you taking out your grievances with them on me, I do kinda understand it."

"And I understand why you felt the need to retaliate," he assured her with a smile, still a bit baffled that she was behind his latest tech troubles.

"Did we just agree on something?"

"Seems like it, doesn't it?"

She just hummed in response, slowly withdrawing her hand from his.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"We could try to be… friendly?" he suggested with a shrug.

"Friendly?"

"Yeah, you know, stop with the getting in the way and stepping on each other's toes at every turn thing, and start being civil with each other."

"I'd like that," she said after thinking about it for a second.

"Good. Me, too." He raised his glass of wine. "I'm guessing toasting to being friends would be a little presumptuous."

She clinked her glass against his, a beautiful smile playing on her lips. "To colleagues who don't hate each other anymore and may turn into friends in the future."

"That's a mouthful, but I'll definitely take it."

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂ ARROW ⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 **One year later**

As per usual around this time of year, the Queen Mansion had been turned into a winter wonderland, tastefully and ornately decorated to reflect Moira Queen's impeccable taste. Maybe the most surprising thing about this party, considering all the fanfare on the grounds, was that it was a super lowkey, albeit insanely exclusive, affair.

She'd been surprised when she'd gotten an invitation, despite Oliver's very excited announcement a few days before the arrival of the formal invitation. This wasn't just any Christmas party. This was the Queen Family Christmas Party. From what she'd heard, the guest list usually didn't exceed 60 people and typically consisted mostly of family and very close family friends.

So why was she here? Because she'd become really close friends with Oliver over the course of the last year, ever since their grandmothers had set them up for a blind date. It had started out cautiously, both of them unsure how to handle their new dynamic. But soon enough, smiles and nods while passing each other in the office and civilized work discussions had turned into her taking Oliver up on his previous offer to teach her about the budget proposal process and all the pesky, little, but necessary analyses and documents. Even after he'd moved on from the accounting department a few months after their blind date, he'd kept giving her advice and she'd kept running ideas by him.

When he started his new position as VP and, as a consequence, they didn't see each other as often anymore during the day, they started going to lunch together a few times every week. That turned into movie nights, cooking at home, merging their groups of friends, and just hanging out together for the biggest parts of their free time.

So, maybe calling them really close friends wasn't really cutting it. They were best friends. And as unbelievable as it would've sounded a year ago, she couldn't and never wanted to imagine a life without Oliver in it.

"You're here," Oliver's voice greeted her before she could even knock on the door.

"Of course." She stepped on her toes to hug him tightly. "You've hyped this day up so much in the past weeks that I have rather high expectations now."

"And they won't be disappointed, I promise. Today will be awesome."

"Well, then lead the way," she said, finally disentangling from him. "Where can I put my stuff?"

"Right." He clapped his hands together, buzzing with excitement. "You can leave your coat on. We'll just put your things in my room and head right outside for the buffet."

She pressed her lips together, watching the glint in his eyes. "You're really excited, aren't you?"

He licked his lips, his wide grin softened into an honest smile, eyes twinkling with happiness. "I'm just really happy to have you here this year."

This sappy sucker! Going around melting her heart.

She stepped up to him again, pressing her lips against his jaw. "Shall we get this party started, then?"

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

A few hours later, party in full swing, Felicity was having the time of her life. Christmas might not have been her holiday, but the Queens sure knew how to make it a joyous occasion for everyone.

The afternoon had started with coffee, tea, and a huge buffet of cakes and all sorts of Christmas cookies set up in a spacious, beautifully decorated tent out on the grounds. The guests had mingled in the relaxed atmosphere, all adhering to the informal dress code Moira had mandated.

After a couple of hours of mingling in the warmth of the tent, some of the guys had gotten organized into two teams to start the annual backyard pond hockey game. Snuggled into her thick coat and with a steaming mug of mulled wine between her fingers, Felicity sat down on a bench close to the ice, watching Oliver glide effortlessly over the slick surface during warm ups.

Damn, that man could rock a Christmas sweater.

"Hey, I don't think we've met. I'm Jenna," a beautiful brunette woman said, plopping down next to Felicity.

"Oh, hi. I'm Felicity," she greeted with a polite smile and turned back to the ice.

"So, which one is yours?"

"Excuse me?"

"Which of the guys is yours?"

"I…" She looked at Jenna questioningly.

The other woman huffed out a breath. "My husband, Stuart, is the guy in the brown sweater and my son is the little guy behind the goal back there." She motioned to a young boy of about 9 or 10 who was surprisingly steady on his skates. "Who are you cheering on?"

"Oh, uh… guy in the green sweater," Felicity said.

"You're Oliver's girlfriend?"

"What? No. Noooo, god no," she quickly denied with a snort. "We're friends."

"Riiiight." Jenna nodded with an arched eyebrow, clearly not believing her.

The game started, saving her from any more flailing justifications of her friendship with Oliver. Because that's all there was. Friendship! Not that she wasn't used to people assuming there was more –that happened all the time when they went out together— but it was just people's small mindedness when it came to the old notion of men and women being incapable of being just friends.

Sure, their own group of friends joked all the time that Oliver and her routinely acted more like an old married couple, but that just spoke to the familiarity and trust they had in each other, okay?!

And, okay fine, they might've had some close brushes with trampling over the line when they'd had a little too much to drink, but they'd always stopped themselves before anything could happen. And either way, they just had a very tactile and trusting relationship. Uhh, **_friendship_**!

A pained yell, followed by sickening thud, ripped her out of her musings and she focused back on the ice where a huddle of players had formed around another player that was lying on the ground. A player in a dark green sweater. Shit! Oliver!

She bolted up from her seat, eating up the distance to the ice, only slowing down when she slipped and almost crashed. Sliding to a stop next to Oliver's prone body, the ice beneath her knees digging right through the thin layer of her pants.

"Oliver? Oliver!" she urged, cold fingers skidding over his face. "Come one, wake up!"

"Miss?" a voice behind her asked. "Could you please take step back? I'm the Queen family physician." When she scooted back enough for him to take a closer look without letting go off Oliver's hand, the older man she recognized as one of the guests turned to someone else, "Andrew, could you please keep pressure on that wound?"

Wound? What wound?

Finally ripping her worried gaze from his pale face, she let her eyes wander down his body, frantically looking for any visible injuries. Her stomach dropped when she reached his thigh where another man was pressing against a wound, his hands covered in blood.

No, she couldn't lose him.

He _had_ to be okay.

She wasn't sure if she made a distressed sound, but the doctor turned his eerily calming gaze to her, giving her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Miss, he'll be just fine. The wound isn't too deep and the fall just knocked him out. You should have him back by your side in no time."

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

She was tired. God, she was so damn tired.

Oliver had woken up after only a couple of minutes of being unconscious, but to treat the cut on his thigh, left there by the blade of someone else's skate he'd collided with, he'd been given a mild sedative and local anesthesia.

It had only been about half an hour since the accident, but it felt like hours had passed. She felt drained of all energy. So completely exhausted from worrying about him.

For a second, seeing him lying there, unconscious and pale, _lifeless_ , she'd thought the worst. For a second, her best friend was gone.

For a second, the man she…

The man she… what?

 _No, don't do it, Felicity. Don't be a cliché. Don't be one of those people that needs a tragedy to realize how they really feel about someone._

Even though, technically, that wasn't quite the case. She definitely knew how she felt about Oliver. She'd just never admitted it out loud, because that would open a Pandora's box of epic proportions. She really couldn't go down that road. Not with his baggage. And her baggage. And the fact that they still kinda worked together. It was just unthinkable, the notion of them being together, so why think about it at all and agonize over one-sided feelings that would never be reciprocated?

"F'licity?"

"I'm here."

"My head hurts," he mumbled, eyes still closed.

She traced his cheek with her fingertips. "I know. Try to get a little more rest, okay?"

"Mhhh," he hummed, his eyes blinking slowly open. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine"— her fingers stilled on his skin —"just focus on yourself, alright?"

"Always think of you," he mumbled, turning his face into her touch, letting first his stubble and then his soft lips drag along her fingers. "Sorry for scaring you." He was becoming a little more lucid, keeping his eyes open a for a few seconds at a time.

"And how would you know you scared me and probably took five years off of me?" she asked, unable to hide her smile.

"Because I know you," he sighed, shaking off more of the drowsiness. "You always worry about me."

"Yes, and my sanity and life expectancy would appreciate it if you never scared me like that again," she scolded him gently, tapping his nose.

"I'll do my best."

"You better. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"I'll always be with you," he whispered with a dopey grin, sleep dragging him back under. "Stay with me?" he asked, moving the edge of his blanket out of the way, making space for her.

For the life of her, she couldn't resist. There were very few things in this world that were better than falling asleep in Oliver Queen's arms, so she wasn't about to pass on his invitation.

"Rest, Oliver. I'll be here."

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂ ARROW ⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

 **1 week later**

New Year's Eve.

His favorite excuse to get drunk and make out with random women.

At least it used to be.

Now, it was a different story.

He'd come to appreciate the occasion for what it was: the end of one year and the beginning of a new one. An evening of dreams and hopes and endless possibilities. Especially, tonight.

Wow, when had he turned into such a sap? And when did he stop minding that he was?

"You look dapper," Felicity greeted him. Yup, there was his answer.

He turned to her, trying and probably failing to school his features at the sight of her. "And you look beautiful," he told her, bending down to kiss his best friend's cheek in greeting, not missing the slight blush his words provoked.

"Always sweet-talking," she teased him, straightening his tie with practiced ease. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing, really," he sighed, wisely deciding not to tell her about the numerous attempts of some of the guests of hitting on him in not so subtle ways. Whenever she witnessed that kind of behavior around him she always rolled her eyes, showing those tiny sparks of jealousy.

"You'll work yourself to death one of these days." He was only half joking, mostly genuinely worried that all the overtime she'd been clocking this year was finally going to take a toll on her health.

"You know me, when I get in the zone I can't help myself," she played off his concern.

"So, I'm guessing you won't make a new year's resolution to work less next year?"

"I will actually," she told him, with a smirk, knowing full well she'd managed to surprise him.

"Really?" Yeah, he'd only believe that when he saw it.

"Really. Don't sound so shocked. I'm well aware that I've been stretching myself thin this year," she said, entwining their fingers. "I got swept up in the excitement of the new project and focused most of my time on it. I know I still got to spend plenty of my free time with my friends, but I also noticed that I said 'no' more often than before because some nights I was just too tired or still stuck in the office. I'm determined to make a change next year."

"Does that mean I'll get to spend more time with you?" he asked cheekily, happy to hear she did actually have every intention to take better care of herself.

"If you play your cards right." She smiled up at him. "But I gotta warn you, Cait has already claimed every second and third Friday of the month for girl's nights."

He frowned. "That's a lot of Fridays."

"It is," she agreed. "But I'm open for negotiations. If you can make me a better offer, I might reconsider."

"I do believe I have the better wine. And I'll cook for you."

"Mhhh, that might just do the trick."

"Sorry to interrupt," Tommy cut in from the side, looking not even a little sorry for the rude intrusion, "but I just had to come over and tell you how ravishing you look tonight, Felicity. You clearly dressed to impress and I for one am **_very_** impressed."

"Tommy," Felicity acknowledged his unwelcome arrival, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly at Oliver for his best friend's typical comment, "always a pleasure to see you."

"Don't sound too enthusiastic, Ms. Smoak. I know I'm interrupting your little"—he gesticulated at them wildly—" ** _thing_** , but my mother has asked me to make myself useful and ask someone to dance. Since my girlfriend ditched me on this joyous occasion for a weekend with her friends, I thought you'd be the safest option in this pool of pariahs."

Oh, buddy.

"Did you just call all these women here pariahs?" she asked with narrowed eyes, very clearly displeased by his choice of words.

"I know that sounds bad," Tommy allowed, but plowed on, "but you haven't been here to see how they've been circling us with calculating eyes, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on the juicy, fresh pieces of premium steak they think we are."

"What a terrible burden it must be," she mocked. "How do you possibly survive being treated like nothing more than a piece of meat? What a horrible thing to do to another human being… Whatever will you do about all this unwanted attention?"

God, Oliver just loved this woman for not letting either of them ever get away with comments like that.

Tommy shifted uneasily, pursing his lips. "You've made your point, Smoak. No need to rub it in further. I apologize for my insensitive comparison."

She smiled brightly at him, patting his cheek. "There may be hope yet." Turning to Oliver, she held out her clutch. "Can you please hold this while I help Merlyn with his duties?"

"Of course. I'll be over by the bar," he said before watching them take off to the dance floor. When Tommy turned around mimicking the motion of cracking a whip towards him, he only dignified it with an eye roll. Jerk.

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

Hours later, the party was in full swing and, once again, he found himself in a secluded corner, while Felicity had been whisked away to the dance floor by yet another man. Wasn't that the theme of the evening? He'd honestly lost count of how many guys she'd danced with after Tommy.

It was 11.40 and he was getting antsy. He had a plan and with every minute that got them closer to midnight, his nerves flared up a little more. And not just his nerves, but also his doubts. Should he do it? Should he risk it? Should he abort his mission like he'd done half a dozen times in the last few months?

Oh, to hell with it.

He was done with this giant 'what if' looming over his life. It was time to make a change.

With that thought fueling his confidence, he made his way across the dance floor, tapping Felicity's current dance partner on the shoulder. "Hey, may I cut in?"

The other man grumbled, but stepped away when Felicity gave him a nod.

Standing in front of her now, in the middle of the dance floor, not moving, felt a little weird, but he didn't come to dance with her. Not yet. "Hey, can I steal you away for a second?"

"It's almost midnight," she reminded him with a frown, cocking her head, trying to figure out what he was up to.

"I know. Just trust me."

She let a beat pass, pursing her lips. "Fine… Where are we going?"

"The roof."

"The roof? Oliver it's freezing outside."

"We'll grab our coats. It'll be fine. Just trust me."

She sighed exasperatedly at his dodgy behavior and he knew that she wanted to protest some more and prod him for information to solve the mystery he presented her with, but she finally relented. "Fine, lead the way."

Alright, show time.

She'd only protested mildly when they'd taken the stairs to the door that led to the roof. When they stepped out of the building a brisk gush of cold air caught them, making them both shiver and tighten their coats.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Alright, you know I'm not good at keeping silent. What are you up to, Queen?" she asked, taking his outstretched hand despite her impatience. "This better be good, I'm freezing my ass off."

He didn't say anything, leading her to their right, bringing his surprise into view.

There was a beat of silence before, "Uhm, Oliver?" Her voice sounded hesitant. "What is this?"

"My surprise?"

"Oh-kay…" she drawled out, apparently unsure what to make of this. "And you want to me to check if this is okay for your date?" There was something in her tone that he'd rarely heard from her in the past year, ever since they started being friends: annoyance.

Het let his eyes glide over his setup in confusion. With Thea's help he'd brought up a plethora of blankets and pillows, arranging them in the middle of a sea of little lanterns that were twinkling in the dark night. Next to the blankets was a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses, as well as some of the party's hors d'oeuvres to snack on. Wasn't it abundantly clear what he was trying to do?

"Uhh, what?"

"You brought me here to see if this was romantic enough for whomever you plan to bring up here?", she inquired, her tone nipping.

"What? No!" He stared at her, completely bewildered. Did she really not piece this together on her own? "This is for you."

A beat of silence.

" ** _Me_**? Really?" She stared right back, eyes wide with confusion. "Oliver, this is clearly meant to be some sort of romantic gesture."

"Yeah, it is." He huffed out a frustrated breath. God, okay, he could admit that this didn't go as planned and maybe he did this all wrong. "It's for you. There's no one else I wanted to bring up here. Just you."

"But… why?"

Man, she was really making this a lot harder than he'd anticipated.

"I thought this would be a romantic setting to ask you out. You know, watch the fireworks from up here. Ring in the new year." That was generally considered romantic, right?

"Ohhh." Her eyes widened.

"Yeah," he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I see now that I should've maybe used more words to set this up, but I can do that now." He turned to her, taking her hands in his. "Felicity, I know we had kind of a weird start with our little feud in the office and then our grandmothers setting us up on the blind date, but I feel like we've come a long way since then.

"You're one of my best friends and I've realized over the last few months that I feel a lot more for you than just friendship. So, I was wondering if maybe you felt the same and if you'd like to go on a date with me. A real one this time. No meddling grandmas." He smiled brightly at her, hoping she could see how serious he was.

She stared at him for a few, long, excruciating seconds, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times without any sound coming out.

She was clearly surprised by his words, but it was the next emotion that crossed her face that made his heart plummet. Apprehension.

Well, shit. She was going to turn him down.

"I like you, Oliver," she finally whispered, frantically looking for the right words to break his heart. "I really do. I love having you as my friend." She wiggled one of her hands out of his grasp, laying it flat against his chest, as if that could somehow prevent his heart from breaking into little pieces. "I just… I don't see you… **_us_** _…_ as something more. I don't think that would work. We don't fit together. We're so different when it comes to relationships, the idea of you and me being in one seems pretty unthinkable."

Unthinkable.

She thought they were unthinkable.

That sounded really damn final.

He closed his eyes, willing his mind and body to keep his disappointed reaction at bay. "Right… uhm…" he trailed off, unsuccessful in his search for words.

Oh, shit what had he done?

Had he really misread her this much? How could he have misjudged their situation like this?

God, he felt like throwing up.

"Oliver."

He cleared his throat, reluctantly opening his eyes. For the first time in the almost two years that he'd known her, he dreaded the sight of her.

He pasted on a smile that he knew must've looked fake as hell, but it was all he could muster. "It's… okay, Felicity. I thought you…" He let go of her other hand, bringing it up to scratch his forehead, and cleared his throat again. "I thought there was more, but I guess I… was wrong." So very, very wrong.

She looked at him with sadness, a hint of doubt in her eyes that would've probably given him hope if she hadn't been so clear a few minutes ago.

"I… I'm sorry, Oliver."

That coaxed a semi-bitter, semi-disbelieving laugh out of him. "For not feeling the same way? Don't be." He meant that. He'd never want her to feel obligated to lie and respond in kind just to please him. "I'm sorry I brought it up. I didn't mean to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"No, Oliver, that's not-"

He cut in, not feeling like he could take her pity, "Can we just… can we just forget the last ten minutes ever happen?" Oh, god, was his voice really quivering as much as it sounded like? "I don't want my stupidity to hurt our friendship."

His vision started swimming as the thought of just having lost her manifested in his mind. Being rejected when asking her out was one thing, but completely losing her friendship because he'd put her on the spot, now that was unthinkable.

"Can we **_please_** just forget about this?" he pleaded.

She looked like she wanted to protest, but pressed her lips together and nodded.

Good, with any luck, at least there might be a chance to salvage their friendship.

"Come on, I'll bring you back to the party," he said, voice still heavy with emotion, but soldiering through.

Once again, she looked hesitant, like something else was burning on her tongue or she might have second thoughts. But she swallowed it down, nodding again and followed him to the door to the staircase.

The walk down to the party was painfully silent and he was more than glad that as soon as they reentered the big, festively decked out conference room, Felicity got whisked away by someone from her department. That gave Oliver the chance to finally take a breath.

With one final look at Felicity across the room, he turned on his heels and went back up into the staircase, tracing back his earlier steps. There was just no way he could be in the same room with her right now, not when all his dreams about them had just crashed and burned so spectacularly.

The wind seemed to greet him with a fiercer bite when he stepped out on the roof for the second time. The cold immediately crept inside his suit, making a shiver run down his spine, but he welcomed the slight burn on his skin this time.

His gaze landed on the setup he'd carefully assembled. He was supposed to be lying there with Felicity, cuddled up, sipping champagne, counting down the minutes to midnight.

Supposed to…

How had everything turned into such a crap-show so quickly?

Tonight was supposed to be a good night, damn it.

One minute, he was happy and hopeful, on the verge of dating the woman of his dreams, and in the next, he was alone.

He plopped down on the mountain of blankets, letting his back hit the cushioned ground, staring up at the night sky. The clouded darkness refused to offer him any answers to his questions.

How had he misread the signs? How had he convinced himself that Felicity had feelings for him, too? And how the hell was he supposed to put this behind them? How was **_she_** supposed to put his unwanted advances behind them?

He'd been so caught up in his new-found optimism and feelings for this woman that he never really stopped to consider what kind of an incredibly awkward position he'd put her in. Yeah, sure, he'd considered the possibility of being turned down, but somehow that situation never looked so fucking devastating in his mind. He'd imagined it would hurt and make things a little weird, but the reality felt so much worse.

He felt lost, unsure, confused, disappointed, angry at himself. A tiny part of him was even angry at Felicity for not feeling the same, even though he knew that wasn't fair. People couldn't be forced to love someone.

Fuck, he'd been so sure that there was **_something_** brewing between them. They'd become close pretty quickly and he thought he'd figured her out. Thought he knew her and her tells. Thought he knew how she behaved when she was attracted to someone. But tonight just proved how foolishly wrong he'd been.

Maybe he could go on a prolonged business trip to put some time and distance between them to help make things less awkward. Maybe after a few weeks they could put this behind them and move on. Not that he thought he could just turn off his feelings like that. But he could try. He **_had_** to try if he wanted to salvage their friendship. And he did. Life without Felicity was no longer an option. Even if all she would ever feel for him was friendship.

The first thunderous crack and a bright, colorful flash of fireworks going off high above his head ripped him straight out of his thoughts.

Midnight.

Happy New Year, he thought bitterly.

If tonight was any indication of what 2018 would look like, he already dreaded the next 365 days with a vengeance.

He heard the scrunching sound of the gravel that covered the rooftop, alerting him to someone's arrival. Probably Thea who'd known about his plans and probably wanted to know if he chickened out again after she spotted Felicity at the party when she was supposed to be up here with him. Gosh, he really wasn't in the mood.

Slamming his eyes shut, he waited for his sister's disapproving voice to rip into him, but instead he only felt someone sit down next to him. Hey, she was smart, maybe she'd put the pieces together and decided to take it easy on him.

"Oliver."

That was most definitely not his sister. And it was most definitely the last person's voice he expected to hear. Felicity.

Ripping his eyes open, he quickly sat up, indeed faced with his blonde friend.

For just one second he felt hope surge through his body until he remembered what she'd said: unthinkable.

One word was enough to crush whatever hope he had left.

Felicity grabbed his hands, clutching them in her shaking ones, and he had to use every ounce of willpower to keep from pulling away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sadness and guilt so goddamn clear in her voice.

He laughed bitterly. "Don't. **_Please_** don't. Literally the only thing that could make me feel worse right now is to get your pity."

"And what about an apology?" she asked quietly.

"Felicity," he sighed, getting increasingly frustrated with her. This just felt like she was pouring salt in his wounds. Couldn't they just move the fuck on? "I told you you have **_nothing_** to be sorry for. You don't feel the same way, and while that does hurt to hear, it's **_okay_**. It sucks. It really, really sucks, but it's okay. I'll get over it, I promise! I just need a little bit of time."

"That's not…" she sighed, running a hand through her locks. "I lied."

He looked at her with a frown etched into his forehead, not understanding what she meant.

"Earlier… when I said I didn't see us as something more, I **_lied_**."

What?

He swallowed hard, willing his brain to catch up and comprehend what was happening. "I don't understand," he finally breathed out.

"I panicked. You completely caught me off-guard with this." She motioned around. "I mean, I really didn't see any of this coming. Not in a million years. I've spent the better part of this year convincing myself that there'd never be more between us. That we'd only ever be friends. That you'd only ever see me as a friend.

"So, when you asked me out, I was so shocked I panicked. I used every defense mechanism I had just in case you were just joking or I was reading into things or this was just one of those spur of the moment things that people come up with when alcohol is flowing and everybody around them is happy and in love."

"So, you're saying…" What was she saying? That she felt more for him? That she wanted a do-over? That he wasn't clear enough with his intentions earlier and she'd misunderstood?

She took a deep breath. "I'm saying that you were right. There **_is_** more between us."

"I… So… Are you sure?" he stuttered, still unable to really catch up with what was happening.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, voice so damn steady and sure that he was inclined to believe her, and yet…

"But then why…"

"Because I panicked. Because when you said you felt more, all I could think about was all the different ways I could get hurt. And I know that's selfish and you didn't deserve that, but that's just what happened."

"I'd **_never_** purposely hurt you, Felicity."

"I know," she insisted, grimacing. "But then I remembered how my ex told me the exact same thing, and a few weeks later I found him in bed with another woman. And that made me think of some of the things I've read about you, and even though I knew it wasn't a fair comparison, it still stuck." Her words were slipping out quicker, her breathing unsteady. "I mean, deep down I **_know_** you're not like Billy and I **_know_** you're not like party boy Ollie Queen anymore, but there was still this little voice of doubt and insecurity in my head that I stupidly decided to listen to instead of what my heart was telling me."

"And what was your heart telling you?" he asked with bated breath.

A smile tugged at her lips. "That none of my doubts or deep-seeded insecurities changed the fact that I'm in love with you."

He sucked in a breath. Did she just…? Holy crap, she did.

"Felicity…" Please don't let this be emotions and guilt running high, making her feel like she had to say it.

"No, I'm not just saying it now to make you feel better or because I feel guilty for hurting you earlier by lying to you," she answered his question before he could even ask, quickly adding, "Even though I do feel really bad about that and I'm sorry."

She tugged on his hands in emphasis. "I'm telling you because it's the **_truth_**. I don't really know when it happened, but sometime during the past year I fell in love with you and for too long I let my insecurities and doubts hold me back. I had myself absolutely convinced you'd never see me as more than just a friend. And even if by some miracle you did, that we still wouldn't work out.

"But now, I'm just so done with living with all these questions and 'what ifs' that keep me from living my life to the fullest," she said with a hopeful smile. "I wanna take this jump with you. Figuratively speaking, obviously, because you know I'm terrified of heights." That elicited a knowing laugh from him. "I love you," she continued, more serious, "and I want to be with you and I'm done holding myself back." The more she spoke the steadier her voice became, until she added, a little more shyly, "If you'll still have me, that is."

He blinked a few times, letting her words wash over him, carefully sifting through the onslaught of information.

That was **_a lot_** to take in.

First things first, she loved him. As in, she was **_in love_** with him. She said so multiple, leaving no doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth.

Second, she was scared because of their individual pasts. That was what held her back before, worrying about 'what ifs' and 'could bes'."

Third, she wanted to throw caution to the wind and try a relationship with him. She **_wanted_** to be with him.

She cleared her throat, licking her lips. "Or you could… think about it," she said, voice quivering ever so slightly with worry. "Yeah, just think about it. I'm not going anywhere. And I understand that after what I did earlier you need some time to consider this."

She slowly drew back her hands from his, and only when he was no longer touching her did he realize how long his reaction was taking him.

He breathed out a huff of laughter, suddenly overcome with happiness and the realization that they could be together after all. He leaned forward and framed her face with his hands, not wasting any time, bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

He could tell she was surprised by how she momentarily went completely still, her entire body frozen, before she caught herself and her lips started moving against his in a slow torturous rhythm that had him this close to begging for more.

One of his hands trailed down her neck, following her arm down until he found her waist where he pulled her closer, mindful of the somewhat awkward, twisted position they were in. He just needed more. He wanted to feel her body against his and make sure this wasn't a dream. Make sure that he didn't just drink the entire bottle of champagne, pass out, and conjure up a universe in his drunk mind where she didn't reject him.

Her fingernails lightly digging into his scalp made him pause. Holy shit, this was real.

He drew back, putting a few inches of space between them, watching as her eyes sluggishly blinked open. Full blown pupils filled with desire met his. They were both breathing heavily, the rapid puffs of air visible in the sparsely illuminated night.

"Felicity," he breathed out, dipping back in for another kiss against her now slightly swollen lips. He smiled into the kiss, beyond happy that he could do this now.

She pulled back this time, cradling his head in her hands. "I'll take that as a yes," she teased, licking her lips.

Oliver smirked at her. "You can take that as a hell yes," he corrected her, pulling her closer once again, and this time she helped, hiking up the hem of her dress so she could straddle him. "I love you, Felicity," he murmured just before their lips met again, slower this time with the knowledge that they had all the time in the world. "You're crazy if you think that I'll ever think twice about being with you now that we have everything out in the open. I love you," he repeated, delighted by how easily the words rolled off his tongue.

"Mhhh," she hummed against his lips, sending a delicious shiver down his spine. "I love you, too. Thank you for forgiving me."

"There's nothing to forgive. I sprung this on you completely out of the blue and didn't consider how much pressure I'd put on you. I'm sure I could've found a better way to broach the topic a little more delicately."

"Just for the record, I do appreciate how much effort you put into this. Who knew you were such a romantic?" she said with an adoring smile, kissing him once more as a reward for his efforts.

He drew back a little, shaking his head and letting out another disbelieving chuckle.

What a rollercoaster of a night. He'd gone from cautiously hopeful to devastated to insanely happy. However bumpy their road to this point had turned out to be, he'd do it all again. Even if it were for just one moment of pure bliss like this one with the woman of his dreams in his arms, telling him she loved him.

He let himself fall backwards, Felicity following him, never letting more than a few inches between them as she settled on his stomach, her hair falling like a curtain around his face. "Say it again," he murmured, already addicted to those three little words tumbling from her lips and the content little smile accompanying them.

She closed the gap once more, immediately knowing what he wanted to hear. "I"—she pressed her lips to his—"love"—another kiss—"you."

He grinned into the kiss before deepening it, caving into his desire and letting his hands roam over her body. God, he could do that now. He could touch her like this. A realization Felicity had apparently also arrived at, if her wandering hands were anything to go by.

A particularly loud bang from a firework right above their heads startled them apart, both breathing heavily.

"Mhh," she hummed, shivering slightly, "maybe we should continue this elsewhere. Someplace warmer and more private comes to mind."

He grinned naughtily at her. "I have a few ideas how to warm you up."

She chuckled. "I don't doubt that, but I'd much prefer to continue this in a bed." She frowned for a second, before amending, "No, actually, I'd just prefer to be in one of our apartments. You can choose the surface."

He growled, reaching up to kiss her again. "I have so many suggestions, but a warm bed with you in it sounds damn good right about now," he whispered, also starting to feel the cold night air chilling him to the bone.

Neither of them made any move to get up though, lost in each other's eyes for a few more peaceful moments of pure and utter happiness.

"Happy New Year, Oliver," she murmured, sealing her words with another kiss. And god, there was so much more in those words. An unspoken promise of everything that was to come, of so much hope and happiness.

"It will be," he promised, knowing in his heart that together they'd make this an incredible year. And just the first of many together. "Happy New Year, Felicity."

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂ ARROW ⁂** **⁂** **⁂**

"To a job well done," Gloria Dearden said, raising her martini glass in a celebratory toast.

Freida Smoak was all too happy to clink her own glass against that of her close friend. "It took a little bit longer than anticipated, but I'm very pleased they finally saw the light." She took a sip of martini, before adding, "Should we tell them that the whole lost poker bet was just a ruse to set them up on a date?"

Gloria shook her head. "I think the better question is what will we do to make sure they don't take too long to give us great-grandchildren?"

"Well, considering the snail's pace it took them to go from their first date to being together, we should get started sooner rather than later. We're not getting any younger, after all."

"Then let's get cracking. I already have some splendid ideas."

"Bring it on, sister."

 **⁂** **⁂** **⁂ THE END ⁂** **⁂** **⁂**


End file.
